


a world at our fingertips

by azureforest



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Fixation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9618272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureforest/pseuds/azureforest
Summary: the world around us doesn't matter as much anymore if you're at my side, the world around us is irrelevant if i can hold your hands- your warm, sweaty, bony, rough hands.because you, you are my world. you have always been.please, never let go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ITS ADOKOGA CENTRAL YALL - ft. adonis' hand fixation, guitarist problems(tm) and me floundering with adonis' characterisation.
> 
> that said, please enjoy!!

Koga’s hands are a little bony. Adonis realizes this when Koga punches him in the arm- Not hard enough to really hurt, not soft enough to go unnoticed. His lips are pulled into a snarl, jaw clenched as he growls and barks about one thing or another, golden eyes sharp and wild, like a wolf bearing down on his prey.

“I’ll rip him apart! I’ll rip that vampire bastard apart, tear him to shreds- Argh, I’m so _pissed_. C’mon, Adonis, lemme punch you again!” The boy in question frowns and shakes his head without as much as a second thought, bringing up a hand in a placating gesture.

“No, Oogami. Please, calm down.”

That only agitates the second-year further, almost to the point he looks like he's about to spit fire- But miraculously, Koga somehow brings himself to comply, even though his fist hovers in the air for a moment longer. The tanned skin is almost stretched white over too-pointed knuckles for that moment, but his grip relaxes as he lets his hands fall back to his sides, shoves them back into his pockets with a huff, hiding his hands from sight.

Bony hands.

“You should eat more meat.” Adonis adds as an afterthought in that moment, in some oddly hasty attempt to diffuse the anger around his unitmate- It feels like an awkward time to interject that, but Koga just raises an eyebrow in a confused gesture, before scowling, though thankfully, it’s far less severe than before.

“Jeez, ‘Donis,” The boy huffs, waving a hand in a flippant, sharp gesture as he walks ahead. “-meat’s in a wolf’s diet, anyways. Ya don’t hafta tell me _that_ twice.”

The taller nods, breathes a silent breath of relief, too small to be called a sigh. "Of course. I'm sorry, Oogami."

 

\--

 

His hands are a little rough, too, calloused and dry.

There are four obvious calluses on Koga's hands, one on each fingertip of his left. He’s traced them with his own once, felt the rough skin, that one time being more than enough for him to be able to find them with his eyes closed- The other boy shows them off proudly, like a little boy might with a tiny scar, proclaiming it as a sign that rock is a part of him, that his fingers testify of his devotion to music.

He's not wrong, really. His are hands hardened by practice and effort, the thing distinguishing the pretender from the real rock star. Hands with perpetually-blunt fingernails to grip the strings better, the vibrations ingrained into his bones as he sways along, as his voice belts out songs along to the steady strum-pick-pluck unbelievably effortlessly. Singing along to instruments while playing isn’t easy, Adonis heard, but truthfully, he wouldn’t know, as his ocarina probably isn’t the best example and he’s surrounded by people rather talented in that aspect.

And Koga, especially Koga. Koga makes it all look so easy as the air leaves his lungs to become melodies and lyrics he’s thought of in the spur of the moment, to become covers of songs they both can sing along to, to become passages of UNDEAD’s own hits. And sing they do, filling the air with their voices and the full sound of a lone electric guitar, fingers gliding along the strings, dancing through the riffs, jumping from chord to chord with the carefree ease of a child playing hopscotch.

It isn’t always as easy as it looks, though- Sometimes, Koga pretends that the skin on his fingers isn’t peeling, jams his left hand into his jacket pocket while grumbling, licks the blood off his right hand from where his poor skin care and hangnails backfired on him over the unforgiving steel strings- Pain toughens the man, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and so on. Both of them know these lessons well.

But Adonis takes his hands all the same, brow wrinkled in concern and soft inquiries. And Koga doesn’t immediately bat him away like he used to.

It’s a start.

 

\--

 

His hands get sweaty awfully quickly, too, he learns- It doesn’t impede him in playing to his heart’s content, but it seems to irritate Koga anyways, but here, on the stage, he seems impervious to the sweat rolling down his face and forehead like water, invincible in the face of a cheering but daunting crowd- He faces the spotlights, basks in the attention as he belts out verse after verse in perfect tandem to the rest of UNDEAD, his movements powerful, sharp, but most of all, natural.

Sometimes, during times like these, Adonis wishes their show would never end- For once, he wishes he could dance and sing endlessly alongside the people he is proud to call his unitmates, his friends, wishes this moment would never end.

Though, it inevitably does, and in the end, they’re all a little relieved- They’re all sweaty, black shirts soaked through, but they're grinning at eachother, exchanging fist bumps and high-fives and playful little jabs as they head off stage, followed by cheers- The elated feeling from a successful live follows them long after the voices are drowned out, settles happily in their chests and minds.

It’s backstage and on that high when Koga runs at him full force, grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him down to his height- His face is red, eyes steely with a conviction Adonis can’t place, and he’s about to ask him what this is about when the shorter yanks him forwards and mashes their lips together- Their noses bump, Koga’s teeth click together audibly, and it’s too fast to really process, and it’s over before Adonis can react.

Koga isn’t making eye contact, but his face is even redder than before, and Adonis can feel his face heat up, too. He opens his mouth to say something, but his unitmate beats him to the punch- Literally, because his free fist lightly collides with Adonis’ shoulder, lingering there as he looks back up with fire in his eyes, somewhere between anger, fear and embarrassment.

“I can't believe you made me fall for ya, bastard. Fuck. Dammit, Adonis.” He hisses, through clenched teeth, voice trembling on the name- The fist on his shoulder falters for a second, slides down a fraction, knuckles dragging against his shirt, a hangnail catching on the fabric.

There's a pause as the taller reaches for Koga’s hand, who almost flinches away at the movement- But Adonis’ grip is firm, yet gentle, just as it has always been, despite the grey-haired boy’s sweaty palms, despite whatever had just transpired between them.

And he smiles, a rare grin that Koga thinks that he could go blind from if he stares at it for too long.

“Thank you, Oogami.”

Quietly, slowly, the distance between them is closed once more, softer, slower this time, without the awkward clash of teeth and chapped lips- Koga lets out a startled noise, then relaxes, leaning into the kiss, and that's the only answer the both of them need.

It’s warm.

They pointedly ignore the startled shriek Kaoru emits mere seconds afterwards.

 

\--

 

Koga’s hands are many things, but above all, Koga’s hands are warm, even despite the biting cold of the winter that threatens to sink through his jacket and settle into his bones- The frosty cold is far from the kind he knows, a thing still slightly foreign to him, the polar opposite of warm sand and the sun mercilessly beating down on places where there is no shadow. Adonis hunches his shoulders, buries his face into his scarf, tightens his hold on the other’s hand, runs the pad of his thumb over the back tenderly- Koga’s face reddens in response as he grumbles a halfhearted complaint about his boyfriend’s supposed iron grip, but he returns the gesture before Adonis can find the opportunity to pull away and apologize.

“Idiot, s’fine. C-couples do this kinda thing, right? Just… Keep holdin’ my hand. Don’t ever let go, else I won’t forgive ya.”

Koga tilts his chin upwards, pretends his stutter comes from the cold, the nonexistent chatter of his teeth, but Adonis knows better, as he usually does- He just laughs softly, smiles, brings the other’s bare but miraculously warm knuckles to his lips with a whispered promise.

“I won’t, Oogami. Please keep holding mine, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
